


Hurt

by Bitter_Baristas



Category: Transformers (Bay Movies)
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Minor Violence, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-17
Updated: 2017-09-17
Packaged: 2018-12-31 00:49:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12120942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bitter_Baristas/pseuds/Bitter_Baristas
Summary: Set before Dark Side of the Moon. Sam is depressed and feels abandoned because the Autobot's are too busy working with the government. After being awakened by a thunderstorm Sam goes for a walk to clear his head of a post traumatic nightmare and encounters a Decepticon.





	Hurt

A violent wind howled outside, dark rain clouds crawling across the purple sky. Rain pelted against the window and lightning flashed brightly, followed by booming thunder that shook Sam's bones. He gasped and jerked awake, soft brown eyes flicking across the room frantically. His breathing was rapid and the boy's body trembled as more thunder roared. It sounded like Megatron's raspy voice calling his name, tempting him to be his pet. The nightmare he'd woken from was fresh in his mind, and he pressed his palms into the mattress, just to be sure that there was ground beneath him.

Sam fell back onto the bed, feathery hair fanning out on the sweat soaked pillow. His hand rose to cover his baggy eyes and he sighed; another sleepless night. He rolled over, a pang of sadness stabbing his heart when he remembered he had no one to share the bed with. The boy shakily got up, hating how his knees shook under his weight. He stood in front of a cabinet, throwing on a wrinkled t-shirt. Lighting struck and the room filled with blue light. His eyes caught the mirror sitting on his dresser. A man's face was illuminated in the reflection; no longer a boy or teenager. His face was worn and tired from intense exhaustion, kind eyes growing listless. Small scars littered his skin and a slight smile quirked his lips.

He remembered how he'd received most of them in Egypt in an explosion; he'd saved the world that day. Sam scowled at his reflection and grabbed his keys. He shoved his feet into a pair tattered sneakers and stormed out through the garage. The man glared at the old, dirty car that sat innocently inside. He hated the car, he hated his new life, and he missed 'Bee. It had been weeks since they'd hung out, the scout too busy to spare him a moment. He exhaled heavily and slipped into the black night unnoticed and uncared for. Why were things going so bad? He had saved the world, twice now, only to be cast aside like trash. Even after he'd graduated from college (the allspark instant learning trick helped immensely) no one would hire him at any job he remotely wanted.

Sam groaned as more thoughts swirled in his mind. He had a crappy job, no friends that had time to spend with him, and no one to share his life with. The man let a few stray tears fall, knowing they'd be hidden by the pouring rain. He checked his pocket for his cell phone, smirking when he realized that he was still wearing the same jeans from yesterday. He had no missed calls and no new text messages. Not for the first time he cursed in cybertronian, bitterly wondering what the Autobot's were doing without him. Was this how Simmons had felt? Sam felt a little guilty for what had happened to the agent's life. The mere thought of moving in with his mother made him shiver. Simmons had been a jerk at first, but after you got used to him he wasn't so bad. Or as Leo had put it, 'a jerk you can tolerate.'

He smiled a bit wider now, thinking back to his college days with his nerdy friends. They had spent weekends watching weird anime shows Sam still didn't understand, pining over hot girls way out of their league, and Leo and Sam shared the special privilege of sneaking away to pester the Autobot's. Sam swallowed and breathed deeply, lifting his head to see where he was. He was surprised to see how far he'd gotten from his apartment. The boy grappled with the idea of returning home—which he shouldn't have left, his clothes were soaked—and going on until he managed to clear his muddled thoughts.

Sam walked without a destination, head down and feet moving with no input from his brain. He was so lost in thought that he ran into a pole, the shock making him aware of his surroundings. He'd come to a stop before a sordid, inner city tavern. Sam shoved his hands into his pockets and entered, becoming one of the people hunched over endless drinks. Only the elderly bartender took any notice of him, her expression critical and distrusting. Sam looked down and blushed. He was clad in old pants, a light shirt, and ratty shoes. He was the crazy homeless guy incarnate. The irony made him chuckle. Ignoring her stare he sat on a stool at the main counter and ordered a strong drink.

The waitress brought him the small glass and a towel, rolling her eyes when thanked. Sam wrapped the towel around his wet shoulders and dried his hair before downing the alcohol. It stung, sliding down his throat like acid. He grimaced. Sam didn't drink much, in fact the only alcoholic beverages he'd had on his twenty-first birthday had been fruity, sweet, and split with Mikayla. Sam gripped his hair as her name echoed in his mind. He remembered when they'd broken up perfectly. She'd said they needed to talk, so they sat down on the swinging bench out back.

The brunette was distant and slightly upset. She shook her head and smirked to herself, simply saying that they were over. The finality in her voice paralyzed Sam, but he snapped back to reality, jumping up to catch Mikayla as she stood. He pleaded and said they could work things out, and she smiled sadly and touched his cheek.

"Sam… we want different things in life, I don't think this going to work." The evening sun silhouetted her goddess figure and made her dark hair shimmer. Then she was gone. No elaborated explanation, no 'we can still be friends,' just goodbye forever.

Sam couldn't help but blame himself. Memories and flashback's spun in his head and he slammed his fist on the table. After guzzling two more drinks he lingered, really feeling like he should go home. Sam brushed the feeling aside and left, disappearing into the dismal night. The rain hadn't let up, and the clouds in front of the moon were eerie silver. The world was so different cloaked in darkness. Skyscrapers seemed even more daunting and narrow back streets were pitch-black, as if a monster was just waiting to pounce on anyone who ventured to close. Sam fought the urge to shudder and told himself to turn around and go home. Call Bumblebee or one of the others to pick him up and take him home. Better yet, maybe they'd let him spend the night at the base. Sam fished his phone out of his pocket and went to his contacts to speed dial 'Bee.

Just as he scrolled down to the B section something hard and smooth constricted around his middle, a metal hand slapping over his mouth to prevent him from screaming. Sam felt that with all he'd gone through in life that something like this shouldn't scare him so much, but it did. His heart dropped into his stomach and his legs became weak with fear. A monster in the depths of an alley snarled and yanked him back. Sam came face to face with a Decepticon he'd never met. It grinned and revealed twin rows of jagged teeth. Hot, smelly breath spilled over his body and the mech cackled, claws digging into his flesh.

"So this is the insect that shamed our glorious leader." it mocked, shoving Sam to the ground and stomping on his chest. The boy arched in silent pain, tears searing his eyes. The Decepticon's glowing optics flashed in the lighting and he lunged forward, clawing at Sam's body. The human shrieked behind the extra limb covering his mouth, head jerking back to hit the cement. He reached desperately for his fallen cell phone, fingernails clawing at the rough pavement. The metal demon's chassis rumbled with laughter and Sam found his hands pinned above his head. The torment continued until yellow headlights cut through the darkness. Sam's breath hitched and he waited for the car to transform into one of his friends. But it rolled on, its driver oblivious to the victim just out of reach of the cars headlights.

Sam was in a daze, his mind separating from the pain. For what seemed like forever the agony went on, then abruptly it ended. Sam croaked and slowly sat up, looking around in confusion. His abuser was gone. He scrambled for his phone and was relieved to see the rain hadn't damaged it. With shaking fingers he called Bumblebee, praying the mech would answer.

. . .

Bumblebee was enjoying himself with a cube of high-grade, Ironhide and Optimus, all three of them playing a complex cybertronian game when his systems chimed, alerting him of a call. Bumblebee laughed at a joke Ironhide made and answered cheerfully.

"Hello, hello baby," he said, using a song by a flamboyant singer named 'Lady Gaga.'

The other line was silent for a moment, save for the sound of water in the background. He heard someone panting weakly before, finally, "B-bee?"

The yellow mech went ridged with concern. "Sam, Sam what's wrong?" he asked normally, using his fixed vocalizer. His boy whimpered and hesitated. Optimus and Ironhide were standing now, questioning worry etched into their features.

"C-can you come get me, 'Bee?"

"Where are you Sam?" The camero asked a little too quickly.

"I don't know." The boy answered, sounding terrified. Bumblebee's spark lurched in fear. Something was wrong, horribly wrong.

"I'm tracing you're signal, don't worry, just stay there." He instructed evenly, trying to calm Sam and his own rapidly beating spark.

"What's wrong?" The weapons expert asked gruffly, frowning.

"Sam's in some kind of trouble, I'm going to go and get him."

"Ah'm comin' with you, it might be Decepticon's." Ironhide said, optics glinting with protectiveness.

"It may be a trap, Bumblebee. We must exercise caution in retrieving Sam. I think it best if Ironhide accompany you." Optimus agreed and the black mech smirked, powering up one of his weapons.

As soon as Bumblebee had Sam's coordinates the two rolled out. Ironhide lagged behind, letting the scout do his job. Bumblebee throttled back, thoroughly searching the deep city maze. His chassis was tight with anxiety, and it only worsened when he found Sam's limp, bleeding body. The man cracked one eye open when he heard the noises of an engine close by. He grunted with the effort it took to hobble to his car. The instant the door shut Bumblebee tires squealed, Ironhide barely keeping up. Bumblebee bombarded him with questions.

"What happened, are you in pain, we need to get you to Ratchet. Are there any bones broken, what are you doing out here? What happened?" The last question kept on repeating, but his charge just mumbled something incoherent as he nodded off in the passenger's side.

When they arrived at base Optimus greeted them, optics widening when the scout transformed and helplessly held out Sam.

Ironhide glanced over Bumblebee's shoulder and rushed off to get Ratchet. The Prime's gaze was sorrowful and regretful, and when his finger rose to stroke the boy, Bumblebee snatched him back, clutching Sam protectively to his chest. Optimus' sapphire eyes deepened with an intense sadness as he watched the heavily panting human in Bumblebee's servos. Their friend was barely able to stay conscious, his eyes dancing in their sockets. He was sopping wet and shivering, his teeth chattering. Sam moaned and shifted in his guardians hands, nuzzling into the warm metal.

Ratchet and Ironhide ran in, the medic's distress increasing when he saw the state Sam was in. He quickly took the boy and—Sam still doesn't know how, changed his clothes—after giving him a sedative and stitching the really bad cuts. The fevered youngling fell into a restless sleep, muttering about Mission City. It pained the Autobot's greatly to see their friend in pain, and Bumblebee felt that much worse when Sam began to beg for him in his sleep.

"No, please, don't leave me 'Bee…"

A few hours later Sam woke up with a dull throbbing in his head. His vision was blurry and when he tried to get up his body screamed in protest. He collapsed into a pile of pillows and groaned quietly, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

"Sam?" said boy jolted in surprise and his head snapped up to see Bumblebee waiting at his bedside. "How do you feel?"

"I—"

"Out of my way," Ratchet ordered gruffly, shooing the scout away. "Hello Sam." He said softly, scanning him for any internal damage. "Samuel, what happened?"

"I was walking when some Decepticon grabbed me from behind and well… you know the rest."

"But why were you out so late in such bad weather?" 'Bee implored, concerned optics sweeping over Sam.

"I was… upset." He replied, clamming up. Bumblebee wanted to hold the boy close and say that he could tell him anything, but Ratchet beat him to it. The no-nonsense tough 'bot hugged Sam to his face and crooned, soothingly stroking his back.

"Shh… you'll tire yourself out. Rest, Samuel. We can discuss this later; your health is our main concern."

The Witwicky boy gladly obeyed, resting significantly better knowing he was safe and loved. He closed his eyes only for a few moments, opening them when he heard someone speaking in hushed tones outside of the med-bay. This time when he stood he was able to stay up, and he limped out to find Optimus, Bumblebee, and Docbot arguing about him.

"What's up, guys?" he asked nonchalantly, earning their undivided attention. Exclaiming his name in unison they rushed to meet him, Ratchet picking him up again. This must be serious, old wrench thrower usual hates touching, Sam thought.

"Sam, if you're well enough we'd like to discuss what happened last night." Optimus said, deep voice vibrating in his chassis. Sam resisted the desire to sigh and nodded, knowing there was no way he could get out of this.

"I told you, the storm woke me and I didn't want to be alone in that house, so I left to go for a walk."

"In clothing horribly chosen for the precipitation and without an umbrella." Ratchet grumbled crossly.

"Anyway, I stopped for a drink and was about to head home when multi-arms grabbed me." Sam finished, shooting an annoyed glare at the medic.

"If you were opposed to being alone why did you not call one of us to keep you company." Optimus reminded kindly, expression sympathetic.

"Do you?" Sam asked sharply. "I haven't seen you guys in months and you say you care about me? This has been hard for me!" His breathing was uneven and he ran a hand through his tousled hair, anger ebbing with guilt. He shouldn't snap like that, it wasn't their fault they had more important things to do than whittle away time with him. He was a grown man; he didn't need friends to get through the day. Sam sighed, "Sorry, I'm just angry."

"Sam…" Bumblebee kneeled and offered a servo. "It's been too long, and I'm lost without you, what am I gonna do?" he asked playfully, ruffling the boy's hair with his fingertip. The boy's lips tugged up in a genuine smile and he shrugged, reclining onto his hand. As Sam looked around at all the caring faces he felt a knot in his stomach loosen and he knew things were going to change. Surrounded by loved ones, warmth spread through his body and melted the storms ice. 'Bee hummed to him and cradled him like the most precious thing in the universe, making Sam smile sleepily as he slipped into a peaceful slumber.

**Author's Note:**

> Songs, Telephone by Lady Gaga and Miss you by Aaliyah.


End file.
